


Business Proposal

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Sex, Business, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-War, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Quatre takes a business matter into his own hands, without consulting his lover, or even hinting that he's planning something.





	

**Author's Note:**

> “Love one another, but make not a bond of love:  
> Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.”  
> ― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
> 
> This totally got away from me. Also, author knows NOTHING of how business really works. All I know is that the media are sharks and can smell almost any weakness.

Inhale, hold for several seconds, then exhale. Repeat. That was what Quatre kept telling himself. He just needed to make it through one last function tonight, then he’d get to return to L4, and his regular life. Sure, office work and board meetings weren’t any better than this whirlwind tour he’d embarked on. Oh, it was for a good cause and he wouldn’t trade agreeing to it for anything, but he was tired. Charity functions, political rallies… Relena kept her major supporters busy, and Quatre was one of the biggest. He’d been down here on Earth for almost two weeks, and he was ready to return home. To sleep in his own bed and only have to worry about his daily problems.  
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a firm hand worming its way between his fingers and the material of his tuxedo. Cerulean eyes snapping open out of reflex, he turned his head slightly and flashed a dazzling yet tired smile at his partner.

“Thinking too hard will give you wrinkles,” the brunette said softly, bringing their clasped hands together, brushing Quatre’s palm with the barest brush of his lips.

“I’m just ready to go home,” he admitted, thankful that he could at least tell Trowa how he was feeling, eternally grateful that his lover never judged him.

“You think you’re ready to go home? I’ve been ready since the first week. Being your security on things like this isn’t exactly the best thing either.”

The reply wasn’t bitter, but still. Quatre had only been thinking about himself. And he cursed at himself for thinking that way. Of course, Trowa had it worse than him. He had to go over security for each event, each building. And have contingency plans for every damned event. Plus, there was the tracker that they hid on the blonde every morning… Squeezing Trowa’s hand tightly, he smiled at him again.

“I forgot about everything you’ve had to do. I’m sorry about that. At least tonight is the last thing. Then a free day before we take a shuttle back home,” he offered up in apology as well.

“Don’t worry about me. You’re the one that has to watch everything that comes out of his mouth. I at least get to stand there and be silent, and look menacing,” Trowa replied with a deep chuckle.

Quatre opened his mouth to respond, but he felt Trowa’s body tense up, just from their small point of contact, and he saw the impassive mask come down, just as easily as he’d donned the clown mask in the circus. Their hands fell apart and Quatre sat up a little, fingers moving to fuss with the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, making sure they fell flat. When he was nervous like this, he fussed and fiddled with his clothing. It was just a charity auction, but it was black tie, and there was just a sinking feeling in his gut that tonight wouldn’t be as straightforward as he’d hoped and planned for.

“You’ll be fine, and just breathe,” Trowa said, leaning over to give the blonde a brief kiss on the cheek. 

Then he was sitting up, straightening his own tie and adjusting his jacket, so when the limo rolled to a stop he was ready to get out as the driver opened the door. He rose with all the natural grace of a cat coming out of a curled position, barely squinting at the flashes of light that went off from camera flashes. Standing like a statue, he let his eyes move over almost every detail immediately around him before he deemed it safe enough. There was staff assigned to do general security, but he and Quatre were never too careful. The Winner name was almost as big as the Darlian name, and their time at war had taught them to always be vigilant. Leaning back into the limo, he gave a brisk nod at the blonde and Quatre slid over to the door and climbed out of the limo, nodding at the driver as his own eyes adjusted to the flashes. And now that he was out, and the press knew who had been inside, the questions began to fly. 

“Mr. Winner! How much does WEI plan on spending tonight?”

“What are your plans for after the auction?”

“How will this trip affect WEI?”

Most of them were innocuous, or downright uninspired. Officially, he’d given a press conference that had answered these questions before he’d even left space. But they liked to see if his story would change. But he could ignore them and wouldn’t face repercussions. He wasn’t here for them after all. With a polite smile and a nod at the press, he turned and headed for the stairs and the red carpet that had been draped over them. He was partway up the steps with Trowa two steps behind him, a silent follower; when the question came.

“What does the board have to say about you sleeping with another man?” One of them yelled out.

Quatre stopped abruptly and Trowa bumped into him, one arm moving out to steady the blonde since he was still shorter and slimmer than the brunette.

“One of the gossip rags has pictures from your hotel room, while you’re here on Earth. Who is he?” The same voice rang out.

Trowa put a hand in the middle of Quat’s back, leaning down to whisper to him. The tension that thrummed throughout the blonde’s body was enough to make Trowa wince internally.

“Sir, we should get inside,” he muttered, breath ghosting over his ear.

Quatre merely nodded and began up the steps again, fully intent on ignoring any further questions. The press knew nothing. He’d been on the list of ‘Galaxy’s Most Eligible Bachelors’ just last month. Trowa didn’t say anything, just rolled with it. But the questions had the wheels turning in Quatre’s mind. Even as his body went through the motions of greeting people, making small talk, sipping at a glass of whiskey… Trowa wasn’t on top of him, but stayed a polite distance away, eyes always moving, never settling too long on his lover. But Quatre still tried to figure out… To think. 

 

The last of the trip had passed in a blur for both men, and they were grateful to be home. Monday morning rolled around, and it was back to business. Quatre had paperwork and a million other things to catch up on, including a meeting with the head of the PR department. All in all, the headline wasn’t that scandalous, because you couldn’t tell it was Quatre Winner. The darkness and the shadows from inside the room made it look like a person of a build similar to the blonde, but it couldn’t be said for sure. So, WEI hadn’t even bothered with a statement, and it had fizzled out quicker than Quatre could blink. But he had plans, and he spoke with Mindy, going over them with her. She swore up and down the moment he had approval from the board, she’d do everything he’d asked of her. She was one of the few within the company that actually knew about them, and she’d willingly signed a non-disclosure when she’d first taken the job.

Knowing that PR was on his side, Quatre was able to let out a sigh of relief. Settling himself in his office, he sat in the chair behind his desk, the leather giving a soft sigh as his body sank into it. Turning his back to the door and the desk, he turned his gaze out the large windows that made up one wall of his office, allowing himself to gaze out the windows, lost in thought. His eyes took on the glassy shine that someone gets when they’re lost in thought and do not want to come out of their trance. Cerulean swam with hints of darker blue, like a storm brewing far off in the distance of the ocean as his mind warred with itself.

What he was planning, what he was actively doing, without consulting his lover… It weighed on him, like rocks piled in a basket strapped to his back. How would WEI be impacted? Would stocks tumble? Would other companies cease to do business with him, effectively killing him in the water, then ending thousands of jobs? How would the board react? Would they try to oust him; replace him with one of his sisters? The media was a lost cause, and he knew that. Knew it deep down in his bones, with a painful intensity that rivaled being stabbed in the side. So he couldn’t care about that. 

But Trowa. How would he react? Would he feel distressed? Betrayed? Quatre had always insisted on some level of discussion before they did things… Career decisions, home, cars. They discussed it all before they acted. It gave Quatre a chance to loosen his control, to not always be the responsible one. It took away his leadership, in a sense. And deep down, he knew it gave Trowa a new level of control. A level of comfort that the instability of war had never afforded him. Letting them plan out things like that helped give Trowa a sense of purpose and importance in their relationship. Or that was how Quatre justified it. Was Quatre really ready to jeopardize the relationship he and Trowa had cultivated and nurtured over so many years? All because he wasn’t willing to discuss something he was planning?

Leaning forward, Quatre put his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his interlaced fingers, sighing shakily. No matter what happened, he couldn’t go backwards. Only forwards, and he’d accept the consequences of his actions. He’d take up whatever mantle Trowa supplied him with, as befit his current course of actions. Frowning, he picked his head up and ran a shaky hand through his bangs, letting them flutter back into place on his forehead. A perfunctory knock at the door gave him mere seconds to school his features, to appear as if he hadn’t been contemplating the very demise of his known world. Before Quatre could speak, the door opened and a familiar mop of chestnut colored hair poked its way into the doorway.

“The car is here Quatre. Time to go home,” Trowa said, eyes narrowing for a moment as they roved over the blonde.

Afraid that Trowa could see everything, could read the distress that he’d quickly thrown aside, he pushed the chair away from himself and stood. He slipped his suit jacket over his shirt, collected his bag and heading for the door, a smile on his face. His lover’s hard emerald glare followed him from his desk to the door. Stopping in the doorway, Quatre looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow up.

“Are you trying to use x-ray vision on me or some such thing? Your look has a very… Glare-fueled intensity to it,” he said with a soft laugh, reaching his empty hand out to rest on the taller man’s arm, fingers squeezing slightly.

“You just looked despondent for a moment. I was trying to decide if I’d imagined it or not.”

Giving a shake of his head, Quatre dropped his grip on Trowa and moved past him, heading for the elevator. “Just mentally preparing for the board meeting that’s happening on Friday.”

Guilt ate at him for omitting the truth. Yes, he was preparing himself, but as Trowa would say, he also needed to stop trying to shoulder the burdens of the world. But Quatre really didn’t know how to stop. It was what he’d always done, or attempted to do, and he really didn’t know if it would change any time in the near future. Normally, Trowa would press, would pick and pull at the subject like a child fixated on a scab. But they both knew the level of distaste that Quatre had for board meetings, so the brunette let it slide, and simply followed his lover to the elevator and into the waiting car.

 

 

Thursday was a tense day for Quatre. His mind kept supplying him with scenarios and outcomes for the coming day. It was like watching battle simulations through ZERO, trying to pick the best one that cause the least amount of damage. He was afraid to let anyone see him so wearied that he’d had lunch delivered in and had locked himself in his office. Heather, his assistant was under strict orders to allow no one in, and no phone calls. Not even Trowa. Quatre scoffed at himself as he dropped the paper he was reading onto the desk. A locked door wouldn’t stop Trowa if he was determined to get in. Even with Heather protesting at him. The image of Trowa working to pick the lock on his office door while a tall redhead in spiked heels tried to physically drag him away had him snorting, hand covering his mouth to prevent himself from snorting. The pressure was finally getting to him. His subterfuge skills seemed to have rusted with disuse since the war, and giggling snorts were the solution. Letting them run their course, he slowly came down from it, sinking back into his chair with a contented sigh. No matter what happened tomorrow, he’d roll with it and come out on top.

Trowa was propped up against the headboard of their bed, reading paperwork when Quatre came out of the bathroom. He’d needed a shower, and another moment to himself. The nerves had returned, and he’d almost confessed to everything over dinner. But Trowa… His sweet, too good for him lover hadn’t even blinked at Quatre’s nerves or slightly edgy behavior. The night before a board meeting was always the same. The blonde running through the agenda in his head, worrying about everything and anything that could or would be said. How he’d handle each attack, how he’d placate them without upending WEI onto its head, or sending them tumbling backwards from a misstep. So Trowa had simply made dinner and they’d eaten, the brunette supplying Quatre with a glass of wine to help calm him ever so slightly. It had worked. Had dulled Quatre’s mind enough that he wasn’t as frazzled, or as quick to jump.

The shower had been needed. Just watching Trowa slip off his shirt and sprawl on the bed, a folder of paperwork in his lap and black framed reading glasses perched on his nose… Quatre had wanted to toss aside everything he’d so meticulously carved into place and just do it right there, in the privacy of their bedroom, alone and without thought for what would happen afterwards. So he’d fled to the bathroom and the pounding beat of water on tile, steam curling around him. The longer he stayed under the spray, the more his resolve strengthened. Trowa loved him, would welcome and appreciate what Quatre was doing. One more distraction, and he’d be able to sleep and face the day, and whatever came with it.

Keeping that resolve in the back of his mind, he toweled his hair until it was just slightly damp. Normally he slept in boxers or loose sleep pants and brought them into the bathroom. But tonight, he left them on the side of the shower and left the bathroom, shutting the light as he went. Trowa didn’t glance up at first, writing something in pen on his paperwork. Quatre let out a small noise, something like a cough, and only then did he look up, breath catching. He carefully slid the paperwork back into its folder and placed it on his nightstand, followed by his glasses, carefully folding them up. While Trowa took care of his things, Quatre advanced towards the bed, crawling onto the dark blue sheets, advancing until they were face to face.

Trowa’s hands threaded into damp blonde locks, bringing their mouths together in a deep kiss, gently pressing until Quatre opened his mouth, letting their tongues meet. Letting out a soft whimper, his eyes fluttered closed and he gave himself over to the passion and the need that rocked against him like waves crashing on the shore. One of Trowa’s hands slid down from his hair to his back, creating a wave of goosebumps in its wake before settling on the blonde’s hip. With the grip he had, he carefully rolled them, gently depositing Quatre onto the sheets, pulling back from the kiss to admire his handiwork.

Quatre was flushed, cheeks tinged pink, fingers curling into the sheets under him as he forced his eyes open and up, giving Trowa the barest of smiles. He wasn’t fully hard, but his body was interested, and more than willing. Returning the smile, Trowa moved, slotting himself between his lover’s legs, palms on either side of Quatre’s body, looming over the other man. Green met blue for the briefest of moments before Trowa leaned down to kiss the blonde again, their lips the only point of contact at the moment. While Quatre could manipulate a crowd and a boardroom as sure as he played the most complex of pieces on his violin, Trowa was just as skilled at playing with the blonde. After all their years together, Trowa knew how to make him squirm or beg, or could turn him inside out with just a handful of caresses.

“I love you,” Quatre whispered, one of his hands moving to cup one of Trowa’s cheeks, fingers moving the spill of his bangs away from his face as he did.

“And I you,” Trowa replied, turning his cheek, kissing the palm of Quatre’s hand.

With it said, Trowa pulled away, kneeling as he worked his sleep pants off his hips and to his knees before he kicked them off and leaned back over to his side of the bed to grab the bottle of lube, dropping it on the pillow next to Quatre’s head. Quatre gave himself over, let his mind stop cavorting on his problems and just let himself be. Focusing on his breathing, he inhaled, held the breath for several heartbeats then exhaled, sinking deeper into the plus mattress underneath him.

Trowa sensed the shift in his lover, and his lips curled into a knowing grin. He was thrilled that the blonde was able to settle himself and finally get out of his head and cease his worrying. He’d seen the toll it had taken, the stress that had mounted on Quatre’s shoulders, in the heavy bags under his bright eyes. It was always hard to watch, and harder still when he truly couldn’t help. Yes, business and war had their similar characteristics, but they were polar opposites sometimes. And Trowa wasn’t versed enough to be an asset. Sure, Quatre could throw ideas off of him, ask for opinions, but in Trowa’s mind, it wasn’t overly helpful. So Trowa did what he was good at. Security and threat neutralization, for WEI and Quatre. It wasn’t much, but Trowa knew if he hadn’t offered, then Quatre would have simply made it something else he needed to manage. He’d have found someone to manage, but the tactician in him would always second guess. No one was as good as a Gundam pilot, and that was why Quatre was able to lay his trust in his lover.

He started off slow. Kissing and nipping at Quatre’s jaw, soothing at the sharper nips with the flat of his tongue, he moved down the arched column of the blonde’s neck, careful here to not leave marks. Despite how often he had the urge, the collars of Quatre’s shirts never went high enough to hide them, and he’d never be caught in a turtleneck, even when Trowa offered to mark every inch of that skin. As his mouth found a collar bone, Trowa let his teeth bite down harder, worrying at the flesh, then soothing it with his tongue and light sucks. When he pulled away, there was a possessive smirk on his face at the darkening mark.

“Make sure you stay buttoned up tomorrow,” the brunette purred before he resumed his explorations.

It was exquisite torture for both of them. A slow burning build up that they wanted to both rush and keep slow all in the same moment. Quatre’s hands took turns grasping at the sheets under him and Trowa’s hair, unable to keep them still for too long. He writhed on the bed, throat emitting soft gasps and cries that Trowa drank down like a finely aged wine. His skin flushed with sweat and goose bumps all at once as Trowa moved lower, lips ghosting over the tip of his cock; teasing, not offering an ounce of satisfaction. He didn’t even blink when one of Quatre’s hands slapped at the bed out of frustration. He didn’t even know how long he’d tormented them both with the buildup. But they were both more than ready, and he dripped lube onto his fingers, sliding them between Quatre’s spread legs, searching for his entrance. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t prolong it either. Pressing his face to one of Quatre’s inner thighs, he kissed and nipped, sucking another dark mark onto the pale flesh as he carefully prepared his lover; one finger gradually giving way to two, then three. Until Quatre was sobbing out in need, knuckles white as he gripped at the sheets, Trowa’s name a litany that fell from his lips.

“Shh. I won’t make you wait,” Trowa purred, shifting upright on his knees, scooting closer to his lover.

He quickly spread more lube onto his own arousal and settled himself, pressing carefully at Quatre’s entrance, locking their gazes. Quatre’s hair was a wreck, tousled and sticking out all over, and his eyes were glazed with passion. He opened his mouth to beg Trowa to do it, but Trowa didn’t let him. With a steady slow push, he entered the blonde, filling him agonizingly slowly, instead drawing a howl of satisfaction from his lover. They were both too keyed up from the foreplay, their needs too close to the surface to prolong things. They wanted to drown in one another, and that was what they gave. Trowa thrusting in and out with measured control, while Quatre took each thrust and left himself open, hands scrambling for purchase at Trowa’s back, nails pressing in hard. It wasn’t frantic, but they rocked together, rising higher and higher towards the inevitable end.

Quatre lost first, his eyes rolling backwards as his body clenching, nails pricking at Trowa’s back, some of them drawing pinpricks of blood as his orgasm crashed through him, his release splashing between their bodies. Trowa didn’t hold out long after that, thrusting a handful of times, his own vocalization a softer sound, filling his lover. When he could move, he gave Quatre a tired but satisfied smile and carefully slipped from the bed, grabbing a cloth to clean them both, not even wincing when the movements pulled at his newly wounded back. Quatre bit his lip, a shy but tired grin on his face, lazily rolling to his side of the bed, curling right into Trowa’s warmth when he slid into the bed and pulled the blankets up.

“Get some sleep now Quat. You’ve got a big day,” Trowa said, tapping a finger against the blonde’s nose.

With the barest of nods, Quatre was asleep almost instantly, all his worries forgotten. Trowa watched him sleep, bathed in the dim light of the lamp, satisfied to see the lines of worry ease off the blonde’s face as he slept, his breathing deep and even. Smoothing his bangs off his face, Trowa leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his lover’s head before he turned off the light and settled down himself, grateful that the weekend was coming. He’d make the blonde relax if it killed either one of them.

 

The following morning was a blur of activity as Quatre got himself ready to face the day. Normally, he would wear a comfortable suit, or sometimes he’d break down and business casual if he didn’t have any meetings, and wear jeans and a sport coat. But board meetings were different. Quatre always tried to make a good impression. Today was a solid black suit with a crisp white shirt, buttoned all the way up to the collar. Then he was in the closet, pulling out a small box which signified a new tie. Trowa couldn’t count how many the blonde had. More than enough for him to wear a different one a day for at least three months. 

“Another tie? Really Quatre? You only have about a hundred already in your closet,” Trowa teased, making sure his own jacket covered his handgun and hung in a way that didn’t scream that the brunette was obviously carrying.

Rolling his eyes at the other, Quatre set the box on the dresser next to the mirror and opened it, slowly pulling out a solid silk tie. He didn’t say anything, but Trowa clamped his mouth shut. Now he knew why Quatre had added it to his collection. It looked as expensive as Trowa figured it was. The box told him it was from Quatre’s favorite brand, which meant he’d probably custom ordered the piece. But the silk was rich and supple looking, with a gorgeous sheen that picked up the light as it moved. What startled Trowa was the color. He knew without even moving to the mirror and looking, that it matched the exact shade of his own emerald green eyes. The obvious devotion in such a simple thing made his heart stutter in his chest for the barest of moments, and he was overcome with the gravity of how much Quatre actually loved him. All because Quatre had bought himself a silk tie.

Sensing Trowa’s silence, Quatre gave him a devious little smirk and went about carefully knotting and tying it, adjusting the knot so it nestled snugly against the collar of his white shirt. Then he tucked it inside his jacket, smoothing It flat, before he flashed Trowa another knowing smirk and left the room to grab something to eat before the day started.

 

 

Trowa was used to sitting in on board meetings. No one questioned why. They knew the position Trowa held, and frankly, sometimes it was a godsend to have an outsider, who analyzed things from an outside point of view. With his mostly unbiased opinion, he could call out which things the board discussed that would be the bigger security concerns, or likely terrorist threat. On more than one occasion, the foresight that he’d provided had saved WEI billions of dollars. So, he was surprised when Quatre put his arm across the doorway before he could walk in and shook his head no. Something was going on. Quatre never pulled things like that with him. Never blindsided him in such a manner. And he knew he was flashing the blonde a look that screamed ‘we need to talk about this’. And to only add to the growing shock, Quatre had the audacity to ignore him! 

“We’ll talk after.” 

Then the doors to the conference room were closed, Trowa standing in front of them in shock. If he’d been anyone else, his mouth would have been gaping open like a fish. Heather came over and handed him a cup of coffee, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Sucks being told no huh?” She asked, shaking her head. 

“Yes. I… He’s never done that. Usually I’m told ahead of time that I’m not attending,” He responded, following her over to her desk, sitting in the chair she had across from the desk.

“He’s plotting something. Mindy from PR was up here Monday and they were locked inside for a while,” she said, sipping at her own coffee, clicking away at her computer with her other hand.

Trowa didn’t say anything. Just stared into his cup like it knew something he didn’t. All he could do was wait, and wonder what Quatre had planned, and what in space his lover was doing now.

“Thank you all for agreeing to this unscheduled meeting,” Quatre started off. “I realize it was a bit sudden, and I’ve rather left all of you in the dark. But there have been several developments in the media, and before PR will announce anything, they want board approval.”

He paused for breath, smoothing a hand down over his tie in an attempt to calm his nerves down, unsure of what would happen next.

“Before you, is a proposal to release a statement to two of the respected media outlets. We’ve worked with them in the past, and they have never been unjust with us. However, the subject matter is why we are here. I am aware of the magnitude something like this could have on both the company and its shareholders. I’ll allow you all to read it over and then we can discuss it, and then vote on a course of action.”

Now that it was out in the open, he let out a sigh of relief and sank into his chair, watching the six other board members reading the paperwork before them. As they finished, they turned to look at him, mixed emotions upon their faces. Thankfully, most were positive, or at least resigned.

“Everyone deserves happiness,” one of them said.

“Shall we put it to a vote then?”

There were affirmative nods all around.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Quatre kept his face calm, even as he felt his palms sweating against the table.

“All in favor?”

Hands went up. Five out of the six. Quatre didn’t count himself in this vote since he was so biased on the outcome.

“And opposed?”

The one lone hand went up and Quatre gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He nodded back, knowing he was beaten.

“Then your proposal is met with board majority Quatre. Congratulations.”

“I thank you all for this meeting, and for the approval. I assure you all, that what happens after this, I will not allow it to impact my duties or my position here at WEI.”  
He rose and moved to the doorway, opening it and stepping into the hallway, shaking hands with each member and thanking them as they left the room.

“I hope you know I voted the way I did purely for the impact on the company, and not as a reflection on you, Quatre,” the last one out said, grip firm, his voice steady and strong.

“I know why you did it. I’m grateful you didn’t lie to yourself, but I think in time, I can prove to you that it was a worthwhile thing,” Quatre replied, giving him that smile that screamed to just trust in him.

“Well good luck. I look forward to the press release,” he said, other hand coming up to grip Quatre’s upper arm before he let go, gave the blonde one last nod, and left.  
The whole meeting had taken an hour, but it felt like it had been so much longer. But it was behind him now, and he could move forward. He could feel Heather and Trowa staring at him, and he turned to face them, giving them both a little wave.

“Well you win the bet that he’d get his way,” Heather said, handing over a candy bar to Trowa who laughed.

“I know Quatre so well… I know when he’s going to win. That’s his power suit,” Trowa said with a brief heated glance at his lover.

“Well I’m glad to see I pay you two to bet on my skills,” Quatre retorted, crossing the room to the desk. 

He took Heather’s phone and dialed an extension, spoke briefly to whomever answered, before he returned the phone to the cradle, resting a hip against the desk.

“So I have about fifteen minutes of downtime before I have another meeting. Trowa, you’ll be coming with me for that. Heather, close up shop. I’m leaving after that, so you can start your weekend with lunch.”

Heather couldn’t suppress her smile as she set about setting up the office for the weekend, with automatic emails and the weekend voice message. She’d probably come in to an extra day’s work Monday morning, but it was rare Quatre left early like this, and let her go too. She was going to take full advantage of it.

“You changed your schedule without telling me?” Trowa asked, both eyebrows darting up towards his hairline in question, head cocked slightly to the side as he stared hard at Quatre.

“If you’d been working instead of betting, you’d have seen the change reflected on your own schedule,” the blonde shot back, half teasing, half serious. “Trust me, this will be for the best. You’ll be glad we’re finished in time for a late lunch.”

With that, he pushed himself off the desk, turning for the elevator, knowing Trowa would be right behind him. And all he could feel was the questioning look. That inquisitive gaze trying to see inside his head and ascertain what he’d planned or done. Because Quatre may have been secretive with the board or with the media, or even the other pilots when it suited him, but never with Trowa. It was just something that Quatre had a difficult time doing. They knew one another like the back of their hand, and keeping secrets was hard when they lived and worked together. Trowa didn’t even know where to start with questions, so he kept his jaw locked shut, aware that he’d find out what was going on soon enough, as the elevator slid to a smooth stop on the media floor.

PR was down here, along with the large room they used for press conferences, and the smaller private rooms when WEI was intent on new only reaching certain media outlets first. Sometimes it paid big money to be a nice journalist. Mindy was already waiting for them as they exited, a large grin plastered on her face.

“I’ve got everything set up Quatre. Mike from New Space Times, and Lindsay from The Post. Mike brought one photographer, I think his name is Andrew, as requested, and I’ve got Media Room C set up for all of you,” she said, looking from her clipboard to Quatre’s face as she rattled of what she’d done.

“Excellent job Mindy. You must’ve warned them, to have them ready so quickly,” Quatre teased, knowing she’d done exactly that.

“You knew you were hiring one of the best when you selected me Quatre,” she shot back with a saucy wink. “I look forward to reading the pieces when they’re published.”

With a jaunty little wave, she was gone, speaking into the headset she wore, already working on the next project on her plate. Trowa was still confused, but the three names she’d rattled off were known people. Quatre did like to do business with repeat people… So, he followed the blonde in silence as they walked down the hall. Quatre would answer his questions when he spoke with the media. That was the only thing he seemed to know for certain. And after this whole thing was over, they’d go home and Trowa would give the other man a piece of his mind for all the subterfuge and secrecy. Quatre flashed him a quick smile before he opened the door to the media room, greeting each of the occupants by name with a firm handshake. Trowa followed and closed the door behind them, taking a post on the side of the room Quatre would be sitting on, against the wall.

“I must admit Quatre, I’m a bit confused about all of this,” the male reporter, Mike said.

He was an older gentleman, his hair peppered with small spots of grey. He’d been covering WEI almost since its inception. He was thin, but his sharp eyes never missed anything. The photographer he’d brought along with him was his younger brother, Andrew. Andrew hadn’t been at this as long, but he’d still been around WEI for several years, about as long as Quatre had been running it.

“Now Mike, you know you’ve covered WEI for years. You really think I’d call a general press conference to drop huge news such as this?” Quatre laughed and shook his head, ignoring the rapid clicking of the camera as Andrew took shots, wanting to have a variety to choose from when the time arose.

“I have an announcement I want to make, and your papers have been faithful and above reproach in all your dealings with WEI. And I am a firm believer in rewarding those who play nice with me.”

Lindsay was a younger woman. She could’ve been around Quatre and Trowa’s own age if they’d bothered to ask. She’d taken over WEI stories from her predecessor, and Quatre liked her for her blunt, but gentle demeanor. She laughed, a full body type, one hand moving to her mouth to try and stifle the noise.

“Like that one hag from Celebrity Gossip? Oh, that was a priceless day Quatre. I loved how you put her in her place, and she didn’t say anything for the rest of the session. And how her office had packed up her desk before she’d even left the conference room.” She managed to say, after she’d calmed down from her laughing fit.

“Yes exactly,” Quatre said, chuckling as he recalled the very incident himself.

He smoothed his suit jacket out and settled into his seat until he was comfortable, the rest of the room waiting on him. Both Lindsay and Mike pulled out recorders and set them out in front of them, pushing play when Quatre nodded.

“I’ve asked you both here to be the first to report on a story. The board had a meeting about a half hour ago to approve a proposal that I set out before them. It was approved with a majority vote. While the discussion that the board partook cannot exactly be discussed, all board members agree that they can be contacted to verify the validity of the statements that I am putting forth.”

He paused for breath, and Lindsay started writing notes for questions she’d want to ask.

“Last month I was given a place of honor on the galaxy’s most eligible bachelor list. And I must apologize for the deceit. I haven’t been a bachelor for several years. Given the nature of things, it was kept as a closely guarded secret from all but a select few here at WEI.”

“Why?” Mike interjected, writing down his own notes.

“For my safety. We all know how terrorists and radicals react to things, and the last thing myself or my security team needed,” he paused to give Trowa a meaningful look. “Was the hassle of adding onto threats with this knowledge.”

Again, he paused and took a drink of water from a glass on the table. He was steeling himself for the next portion. But the more he talked, the easier it became, as the nerves started to ebb away in the face of the truth. And he could feel Trowa’s gaze on him, both questioning and providing strength, part of him knowing where this conversation was going.

“I met someone during the war that helped me see the real me, to see the real world. I won’t get sappy with you about fighting for a cause and growing up too quickly. But the connection that was made ran deeper than either of us expected. And after I returned to WEI, we stayed in touch. An assassination attempt on my life brought this person back into my life, and in response, he agreed to take over security for my company. Unfortunately, he and I could both think like those that wanted to harm me.”  
Now the focus of the group shifted to Trowa, because the brunette’s position in the company was public knowledge. Anyone who’d done a little digging knew that he’d been involved in the war. Their status as Gundam pilots was sealed, but it had been natural to see someone else from the war step into place to protect WEI. Andrew didn’t snap a picture of Trowa, though he wanted to. It still wasn’t a complete picture, and he could sense there was something even bigger coming.

“Yes, I, Quatre Winner have been involved with my head of security, one Trowa Barton since he came to his position. His position in the company never hinged on him being involved with me. Trowa has responsibilities besides just to being my personal security and he has never faltered in anything that has been asked of him.”

“You waited to ensure board approval before coming out to the world as gay. Was that out of fear for stocks or the company itself?” Lindsay asked.

“Both. I knew such a move could put the company at risk, at least at first. But with how WEI has evolved since I’ve taken over, the board and I both feel that the company is in no jeopardy of floundering, should stocks take a point fall.”

Trowa didn’t know what to think in that moment. Quatre had done all of this to… To what? Give them a chance? Give them a reason to be always seen together, besides their titles of ‘CEO and body guard’? To show that he really loved him? Trowa knew that Quatre loved him. It didn’t always need the words, because Quatre could be selfless at times. It could be from leaving a mug of coffee on the nightstand as Trowa slept while Quatre crept to his office to do work at home for when his lover woke up to surprising him with suddenly clearing their schedules so they both had a day off together to simply relax and just be themselves. Why now? That was all that Trowa could think about. Why now did Quatre want to go public with their relationship? Did he think Trowa was unsatisfied living in the shadows?

“Why now? Why decide to do this now, if you’ve been involved for so long, and no one has known? Why bring your relationship into a spotlight now?” Mike was quick to ask, as if he could sense the thoughts that were swirling around the brunette’s head.

Now Quatre flushed a bit. Just a hint of pink that no one but Trowa would pick up on, if he’d seen the front of his lover. From the back, Quatre looked exactly the same. He pushed his chair back from the conference table and turned to face Trowa. Green locked with blue, sharing a silent communication that Trowa didn’t understand at all. He was simply focused on Quatre, ignoring the clicking from the camera. When it was all said and done, Trowa would be eternally grateful for Andrew capturing every moment that followed.

“I’ve been in love with Trowa for years. While my feelings during war time could be attributed to any number of things, from camaraderie to basic infatuation, age has matured us both. It’s been ten years since the wars ended, and it’s come time for me to finally be myself, who whom I want to be with. And that is this man. He knows me inside and outside, sometimes better than I know myself,” he admitted with a shy little smile.

“I don’t want to have to hide who I am or who I’m with. I want to be able to tell people that he’s mine, and that I love him.”

Quatre stood in front of Trowa, that hopeful little smile quirking at his lips. He was nervous, and his hands were shaking just slightly. But he was determined to do this right, and he pulled a small box from the pocket of his pants, gracefully dropping his body so he was on one knee on the floor. As far as Quatre was concerned, he and Trowa were the only people in the room. Everyone else had faded into the background, the moment heavy with anticipation.

“Trowa Barton, would you do me the honor of marrying me? To put up with me for the rest of your life?”

Rich blue eyes swam with hope, knowing in the back of his mind that Trowa would say yes. Wouldn’t deny him anything, especially this. He opened the ring box, a simple silver band nestled inside of it. Trowa knew that it wasn’t a common metal. Even from a short distance, he could tell that it was Gundanium metal. His heart stuttered in his chest. Quatre had planned all of this… Wanted everyone to know that he was taken. That they were both taken. That he was tired of hiding, of lying about their relationship. It warmed something deep down in his soul.

“I’d be a fool to say no to you Quatre,” he answered, carefully removing the ring from its home and slipping it onto his finger, not even shocked that it fit perfectly.  
Pushing himself to his feet, he dusted off the knees of his suit pants and the grin that he gave Trowa was enough to power an entire colony. Trowa’s hands came down to carefully cup Quatre’s face, drawing him into a gentle kiss, mindful of their audience. No, not too much public affection just yet. That was a conversation they’d have to have at a later time. When they pulled away, Quatre still had that sappy but over the moon grin.

“Now you can see why I didn’t want this becoming a media sensation at first. I wanted it to be quiet, and for people to know it was true, since the sources are more than reputable,” Quatre said with a firm nod.

Both reporters nodded around their own smiles, turning off their equipment and gathering their things, Lindsay talking with Andrew about sending her several of the images for her paper to use, exchanging information with him.

“We’ll run the story first thing Monday morning?” She asked Mike, grateful when he nodded in return.

“Thank you both for allowing us the privilege to see this and be part of it,” Mike said, crossing the room to shake hands with both men, the others following suit before they picked up their bags and left, closing the door behind themselves.

“Monday will be an interesting day. I may have to call in sick,” Quatre said with a chuckle, tipping his head back a bit to look at Trowa with a lazy but nervous look.

“Despite you hiding this from me, and I know why you did, you and I will be having a conversation about boundaries. Doubly more so now, because we’ll be public in three days. I also think I need to punish you for hiding things from me. You know how much I hate being left in the dark,” Trowa said sternly, the fingers of his right hand moving to gently twist at the ring on his left hand.

“Good thing I started our weekend early then, isn’t it?” Quatre laughed in return.

“Perhaps I should take you home and kill two birds with one stone? Punish you for your secret mission, and properly thank you?” Trowa asked, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss against Quatre’s neck, his hair tickling at his lover’s jaw.

“I think that is one of the best ideas I’ve heard all week,” Quatre responded, pushing his bangs off his face briefly, turning to head for the door.

Trowa followed him as he usually did, and he knew that it would be the last time he’d follow him through WEI or lie in general behind him, as just his personal guard. No, they were stepping forward into an uncertain future, but together, like they’d always done. They’d face the universe head on in their own personal war, on whatever fronts they’d need to.

**Author's Note:**

> [https://www.tumblr.com/blog/moonsandrock]()
> 
> My Tumblr. I like chatting with new people. Also I can sometimes take asks or prompts. :D


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